#also i feel too warm. usually when i have A Fever i feel cold

[caseyscraftycorner]

in an infuriating update, after having no symptoms at all yesterday, today i am exclusively experiencing the symptom of "very slightly too warm but not quite a fever".

[yueebby]

4:36am – gojo satoru

synopsis. satoru is dying (he has a fever) and he needs his darling wife (you) to nurse him back to health 

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, even in sickness gojo can still flirt, he yaps a lot abt marriage and he’s kind of perverted, but he’s just so in love why dont you just give him one chance?

notes. i tried to make this very shoujo-esque. cant have a good shoujo anime without a fever episode!  this has also been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. enjoy yet another fic of me showering satoru with affection (sigh).

the cold wooden floors of your dormitory creak underneath your waddling feet. your sleepy haze does not deter you from the strong desire for a cold glass of water.

surprisingly, the usual dark communal kitchen is illuminated by the small lightbulb inside of the fridge. you hear shuffling of some items from the white icebox, removing any ounce of sleepiness from you. it was unusual for anyone to be up at four in the morning.

a tuft of white hair peeks over the refrigerator door, giving the culprit’s identity away.

“satoru? i thought you were still on that mission in sendai?”

the sounds of digging pauses. satoru’s rises to his full height, towering over the rundown refrigerator door. he gives you a crooked smile that you rarely see. it’s dopier than one of his signature cocky smiles.

“missed me? don’t worry, i tried to speed run it since i knew i had such a beautiful woman waiting for me back home.” 

you placed a hand on your hip, scoffing at his pathetic attempts to flatter you. a snarky response was about to fall from your lips, but a series of painful coughs from the lanky male stopped you. 

you recoil back to avoid his germs. “gross. are you sick?”

satoru sniffles, pointing his nose in the air. the same nose that was starting to turn pink from irritation. “i can’t get sick. it’s physically impossible.” 

“don’t be stubborn, satoru. why didn’t you call for help?” 

he huffs, eyes trained to the floor. “it’s too early. shoko’ll kill me for waking her up.”

sometimes you forget that satoru had an image to uphold. he was the great gojo satoru, after all. 

but if you don’t take care of him, then who will? and despite your disdain at the thought of coddling his ego, it was only basic decency to take care of a fellow peer (or that was what you’d like to convince yourself).

silently, you place the back of your hand to his forehead. you’re not surprised by the warm sensation that you feel. 

satoru’s hazy eyes watch as you move your hand from his forehead to his cheek.

you purse your lips in concern. with the way satoru was stubbornly denying that he wasn’t sick, you were nearly certain that he was indeed not fine. without warning, you grab the collar of his white t-shirt and pull him to your room.

“at least take me out to dinner before~”

“shut it.”

it wasn’t hard to get satoru to settle in your bed. in fact, he seemed giddy at the opportunity. while he was happy cuddling with your rilakkuma plushie, you came to two conclusions: either satoru had a wound from his mission that got infected, or he was simply sick.

knowing his pride, you lean towards the former.

the boy in question winces when you grab his shoulders to inspect the damage done to him. the sounds of furious pats and heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear over your rapidly beating heart as your hands run down his body to check for any injuries. satoru sucks in his breath when your hands cup his cheeks to loll his head to check for any damages done to that pretty face of his. 

his body tensing up doesn’t go unnoticed by you. your imposing hands immediately retract, afraid of inflicting any more damage on him.

“where is the wound?!” your frantic eyes meet his blissed out ones. 

satoru sighs happily, lazily grabbing your hands to bring back onto him,  “there isn’t one, this just feels nice.”

your chest angrily puffs up before you shove him into your soft mattress. he grunts, but you know it didn’t hurt.

“[name]!” he whines, rubbing the arm that cushioned his fall.

you cross your arms angrily, “you scared me!”

gojo mimics your actions, crossing his arms while weakly glaring at you. his efforts to intimidate you prove futile as he shivers uncontrollably, resembling a newborn kitten.

sighing, you delve into your closet, emerging with an oversized black sweatshirt that you toss to him.

he catches it with ease, a chuckle escaping while he inspects the sweater, “i never took you for the type to wear this.”

“....that’s not mine.” you give a nod in the direction of the men’s sweater. the sparkle of amusement vanished from satoru's eyes, coinciding with his jaw dropping.

his grip on the dark sweatshirt tightened while his head darted back and forth from you to the clothing item. “then whose is it?!” 

“suguru’s.”

you think that you’ve broken him when his face scrunches up in disgust. it’s laughable how his mouth had managed to stay wide open the entire time.

“sugu-suguru?!” he splutters. you slowly nod, careful not to make any sudden movements that could provoke him any further. “why– how– explain yourself!”

you cast an uneasy glance at the sweater, finding it challenging to summon any recollections of how you obtained it, especially with satoru's piercing cerulean eyes fixed on you. his scrutinizing stare has the power to reduce you into a puddle.

“well? go on,” he urges you when you stay silent. 

“it’s nothing, really. i believe it was from that mission i had with suguru a while back. somewhere up north. i had packed light and suguru offered me his sweater.” you tap a finger on your chin to recall the memory. “i guess it just slipped my mind to return it.”

“slipped your mind, huh…” satoru sniffles before letting out a sneeze loud enough to wake up japan. you nearly jump out of your skin.

“suguru was just being friendly… and be quiet! yaga will have our heads if he finds you in the girls’ wing!” you warn the weary boy in front of you, prompting him to respond with a dramatic sigh.

“how mean!” he whines before making a pained expression. you quickly rush to his aid. when you make it to his bedside, satoru weakly hands you a clean tissue.

you stare at it blankly.

“be a darling and help me blow my nose?” he gestures for you to hold the tissue up for him. all you can hear are muffled whines when you shove him underneath your plush covers. 

when your flurry of attacks ends, he cautiously lifts his head from beneath the sheets. to his surprise, a steaming bowl of bitter melon miso soup is presented to him. while the broth isn't your personal favorite, shoko appreciates its bold flavor, spurring your decision to prepare it the night prior. despite its bitter components, the concoction had a perfect track record of treating illnesses. you have your brown haired friend to thank.

perhaps it was cruel of you to take enjoyment while he eyes the bowl in horror. you know his sweet palate couldn’t handle it.

he looks up at you with big pleading eyes while shaking his head. you roll your eyes.

“c’mon, it won’t kill you.” the bowl inches closer to him by your doing. “please?”

satoru's pallid complexion contorts into a hesitant frown. "i’ll eat it…” he concedes reluctantly. however, his gaze lingers on the bowl with a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance. you respond with a hopeful smile, but it fades when he adds, "on two conditions."

“this is for your own health, not mine satoru.” you remind him.

“doesn’t it pain you to see me suffer?” he brings up, eyes glittering in the darkness.

you suck in a breath. “...not really.” lie.

“you wound me, love.” he clutches his shirt like he has been critically hit. 

you bite your lip, tired of his theatrics. “what are the two conditions?”

just like that, gojo comes back to life.

“condition number one! you have to feed me.” he points one finger into the air, paired with an innocent smile. “and two: i want you to warm me up like that night in our first year.”

an unflattering appalled expression is cast over your face. no words leave your mouth for a good minute. “y-you’re disgusting. why are you the way you are?”

“love,” he sighs. “anyways, what kind of wife wouldn’t feed her husband while he’s dying?”

“satoru,” you warn. he was starting to babble nonsense again. “if i accept your conditions, will you shut up?” your eyes were starting to feel heavy. it was the middle of the night, after all.

he nods fervently.

carefully with the bowl of soup in hand, you gently squish yourself next to satoru on your full sized bed. the tight fit left you little room to move, forcing the two of you to nestle closely to each other. with a gentle maneuver, you rest your head on his chest. his arm slowly drapes itself protectively over your shoulder.

“your heart is beating awfully fast.” you whisper, tilting your head upward to take a glimpse of satoru’s feverish face. his breath hitches.

he takes a hand and holds your head back onto his chest to prevent your movement.

“shut it. i didn’t think you would actually accept my conditions.” he mumbles.

“don’t get used to it. this is another moment of weakness.”

you stir the spoon in the broth, basking in the silence of the night, save for satoru’s erratic heartbeat.

“this is very intimate isn’t it?” he gushes. “it’s almost like we’re married—”

“keep your side of the deal,” you remind him, lifting a spoonful of broth up to his mouth. satoru looks straight into your eyes as he opens his mouth to receive it.

his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, “i’m going to tell our grandkids that we were written in the stars.”

you shove another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

extra notes

satoru magically recovered from his fever the next morning.

his second condition (for you to warm him up like that night in your first year) refers to this fic from earlier on in the series.

satoru also made you promise to never accept another hoodie from suguru. if you needed one, satoru was more than willing to give you his! (you halfheartedly agree, only because he was acting all delirious because of his fever).

as of right now, there have only been three occasions where satoru has fallen asleep in your presence. he can testify that those were the best nights of sleep in his life.

shoko went into your room for a spare pair of stockings the next morning only to find you tucked into gojo’s chest. she chases him out of your room all while calling him a pervert . bless her heart.

[shiggybrainr0t]

bakugou isn’t afraid to love you openly here, in the morning sun.

note: title is lyrics from a zach bryan song <3 this has only been lightly edited, but I hope you enjoy! the line break thing below is from @/cafekitsune

bakugou slams his hand down on his alarm clock at 5:29 a.m., exactly one minute before the alarm is actually set to go off. you have been fighting off a cold the past few days, and after some warm soup and medicine he bribed you with a kiss to take, he’s a nurturer at heart, sue him, you finally were able to sleep. that last thing he wants is his stupid alarm to wake you up.

bakugou is a natural earlier riser. he likes to have time to wake up, drink some coffee, go to the gym and shower and still make it back to you before 8. when he looks over at you now though, he has a feeling that his morning routine isn’t going to be acted upon.

you’re sprawled across his bare chest, legs tangled up with his like a love knot. your face is squished against his bicep, mouth hanging open since you can’t breath through your nose at the moment. some drool has dried on his skin, and while bakugou usually is a clean freak, the sight endears him more than it grosses him out.

perspiration makes your skin glow slightly in the soft early sunlight. you had been running a low grade fever last night, but you still insisted on plastering yourself to him to sleep even though he naturally runs hotter than the average person. he knows you’ll complain whenever you have to unstick yourself from him, but he also knows later tonight you’ll snuggle up to him all the same.

looking at you like this, so soft and warm, he’s suddenly reminded of when he first met you. he was a brooding second year at u.a., a child who had been through far too much already, and you were in the general studies department. the school decided to partner up the hero courses with the general studies department for some assignment bakugou can’t even remember now. he got paired with you.

he remembers the guarded look in your eyes whenever you approached him for the first time, the way you softly introduced yourself, and the way you glared at him whenever he scoffed at you. he remembers being surprised, no one normally had the guts to do anything except take what he dished out. but you didn’t.

one night in the library, you finally hit your breaking point. you were mad and fed up with his attitude. the words you said to him still pierce him today.

“bakugou. you have the potential to make something of yourself, but your attitude is going to determine whether you’re great or horrible.”

you had rushed off in a huff after that, leaving him there speechless. he’d been chasing you ever since. eventually, fourth year to be exact, you let him catch you.

now, in bed with you all these years later, he isn’t afraid to be soft with you. he isn’t afraid to touch your face gently, like he does now. bakugou lightly traces the lines of your face with one calloused finger, lingering on the bags underneath your eyes that have deepened from your lack of sleep lately.

his touch makes you stir, and let a jumble of sounds that after years of practice bakugou can understand to be the question “what time is it?”

“too early for you to be up. go back to sleep.” is his response, gruff voice only a whisper. you let out a “mmmmmkay” and snuggle in closer, if that’s even possible. you both are already practically one being, but bakugo can’t find it in him to be upset.

with you in his arms, bakugou drifts back to sleep, morning routine all but forgotten.

[fairestwriting]

Hey, hello, would it be possible to request the first years with a crush or s/o who's constantly very warm so they can basically act as a human heating pad but despite this they're very touch starved and basically melt into hugs and cuddles, gender neutral pronouns would be great, thank you very much and merry (probably late) Christmas if you do this and same to you even if you don't!

another oldie (Visibly. im so sorry anon. i hope an awesome holiday season) i just had to take...... in the name of all my fellow human space heaters

Ace Trappola

One day, his hands got cold, and you were nearby, neck fully exposed, and Ace did what he would obviously do in this situation. Except it turned out he was the one shocked by how warm you are, even though he did make you jump a bit.

He's a fan of the physical affection. He doesn't fluster easily and likes showing you off all smug, linking your arms together or putting his over your shoulder while you're with your friends. The warmth is a great bonus.

When you cuddle up in a hot day, he whines about how you're gonna cook him alive and will jokingly "attempt" to push you off while giggling, then turning on the AC of his room or dragging you both somewhere cooler.

Deuce Spade

The first time you hug, Deuce gets spooked because he thinks you have a fever. He fusses over you for a few good minutes before you can explain anything. Then gets embarrassed of his reaction.

Being Deuce, he'll randomly revisit this worry, but mostly he just eases into it rather easily. He's a little shy, whether you're in public or not, but you can tell he feels comfortable with the way he leans into you.

Feels so bad if you're holding hands and his gets sweaty. Apologizes a billion times while wiping it clean on his shirt. Nevermind that it'd happen even if you weren't so warm, he just doesn't want you to ever feel awkward when touching him.

Jack Howl

Also really warm because of his wolf beastman genes, also surprisingly touchy. It's hard to tell which one of you is warmer, actually? Which in the end just means you end up comfortably cuddled up very oftwn.

...whenever you're away from others, of course. It's not that Jack hates the thought of PDA, but he "prefers to take it slow" (Read: Makes him blush way too easy)

Commiserates in the summer and celebrates in the winter if you're not very tolerant to heat like him. Sometimes he talks about his family's trips to the north with a voice softer than usual, hinting just a little bit that he'd really love it if you came along one day.

Epel Felmier

He's also on the warmer side temperature wise, but he's small, so he ends up getting cold surprisingly easily.

At first he's a bit spooked with the touchyness, really just because it's his first relationship, but it grows on him. A lot.

Epel thinks him getting cold easy-ish is embarrassing, so he really feels like he won the lottery here. Now he gets to put his arm around your waist to stay warm and look cool with you by his side, boy's on top of the world.

Sebek Zigvolt

Runs very cold. The first time your hand is anywhere on him he jumps a bit. The situation's like the inverse of someone who gets startled by their friend's cold hands pressed to their neck.

He briefly questions if you're really human, stammering something about how only beastmen are so warm. He's too distracted by how nice your warmth feels to make much sense.

He's so easily flustered every time you get cuddly, but if he even tries to push you off (Which he mostly just does if you're in public) it comes out all feeble. Even if he's trying to keep up with etiquette and you two actually have to step away from each other, it's all over his face that he misses the coziness.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[blingblong55]

His pretty girl -Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

I looved ur makarov fic n im here to request smth else w him, there's barely anything w him its sad How would makarov treat his dear wife when she's sick? I'm kinda sick rn so.. : 3 ---- F!Reader, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, nothing but fluff ----

A/N: short but good…I hope…

Vladimir was gone for some weeks. He couldn't come in contact with you so when you didn't show up to greet him he was worried. The drive home was usually calm but this time, he rushed it. Avoided all cars and soon, ran inside. The image he saw before his eyes, oh did it melt him. You were curled on the couch. The blanket slowly falls off your body. Used tissues all over the coffee table and floor. The tea was cold and your soft breathing gave him even more reason to clean the area as quietly as possible. Your shared bedroom was cleaned, all dishes washed and then he carried you to bed. The medication you took to sleep was so strong you didn't know he even carried you to bed. That entire night, he checked your temperature, kissed your forehead and held you against his chest.

When you got sick, the first time, he panicked, called a doctor and yelled at him when he said that all you needed to do was drink tea and take it easy. Now, knowing his pretty little wife too well, he knows all he needs to do. 8 am, have breakfast ready, with tea on the side and orange juice just in case you want that one more and it must be room temperature, not cold. He must put on some video as you eat because you like to catch up on some show as you eat. You like wearing his shirts more because you swear it makes you feel better, which is bullshit because he knows you like to just have a reason to wear his clothes.

He must wash all dishes, not complain about being tired because how dare he. Makarov knows this well mainly because it worked the first 4 times and this time it is the same. After breakfast, washing dishes, he has to take you on a walk, the air, the way you smile, oh he knows the fresh air helps that stuff nose and he also gets even more private time with you.

Lunch for a day or two is chicken soup, his grandmothers since he knows you loved it any time you were sick. Kisses on your forehead all day is a must, you know that. If you groan and push him away, he gives you a little frown and moves closer. "You know kisses are a part of the remedy, my pretty girl." He grins when you give him your lazy smile. Your face is hot from both the fever and from his lips. Once he and you eat lunch, he cleans the home and don't you dare walk to the bedroom, he has made it clear he needs to clean and sanitise the bed.

If he has a meeting, he doesn't go to it, it's over the phone as he is in bed and has you cuddled to him. You can't argue against it. Your husband must give cuddles while on the phone. It's a rule at this point.

At night, he makes dinner, makes sure it all tastes wonderful and then feeds it to you since wrapping you in a burrito can't let your hands move. It's a funny but cute image. You, sat on the couch, blanket wrapped around you which makes you look like a cute little bug as your husband feeds you dinner. Oh, the frowns and pouts you give to his giggle and laughter won't help, he just adores you this way.

After dinner, more cuddles and kisses come by. He calls it 'kiss the sick away.' When you lean on him he knows this is to sleep but he can't allow over 3 naps per day when you're sick. So, he carries you to the bathroom. Gives you your medicine, and takes the blankets, clothes and anything in between off you. The bath was set to a very comfortable temperature.

He undresses too and once he has both of you in the bath, he kisses your shoulders. Your warm back on his chest as he cleans your body with so much gentleness it has you leaning on him and smiling. "That's what you needed huh, pretty girl," he kisses your wet shoulder again and wraps his arms around you. You kiss his bicep and he chuckles. "Don't start, my love," he whispers. The lights dimmed, him and you…this is the perfect way to get better. He hums a song, the same one he married you to and the same one he hums when he is far from home.

"I love you, pretty girl," he whispers and kisses the nape of your neck. "I love you more," you whisper back. "We both know who wins this, so do you want to start this game?" He kisses your neck again and chuckles. In moments like this, in which the world is kind and calm, he appreciates life like any normal person would. "You always win, i want to win this time." You pout and know damn well he can't say no to his pretty wife. "Fine, you win this time but we both know I have a long winning streak in this game." He grabs your hand and kisses it. In his head, he already won. And in this life, he truly did.

A/N: Makarov and Ghost are the kind of man to give me a Hozier song kind of vibe and that is what feeds my fluff brain

Tags:

@makarovsbbg @sans-chara @selarus @liyanahelena @hilmiponken @personwhosucksassatmath @undercover-smutlover @ontopofyourceiling @kielsegur @johfamm0 @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rivivienner @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare

[mockerycrow]

Hi 👋

I was wondering if we could have some fluff? But please only write when you're not busy.

Reader is sick, and how would each member take care of them, nursing them, telling the reader that they gonna take good care of them and then finish it off with some cuddles.

SICK MOMENTS; Ghost Edition (GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist

authors note; yet another “moments” series. idk who i’m doing next, but stay tuned :-) — this is an incredibly old WIP. i will be doing “sick moments” series, but i’m in horrible writers block and I want to finish off the 4k requests. life is busy, i’m so sorry!!!

[WARNINGS; implied civilian!reader, sickness, medicine/drug usage, celsius is used, mentions of vomiting, fluff.]

YOU END UP waking up in the middle of the night with the most painful ache in your throat and the worst headache you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re drenched in sweat, your shirt—Simon’s shirt, actually—clinging to your sweat soaked back, and your blanket feels so suffocating. You can’t help the whimper that leaves you as the pulsing in your temples and eyes quickly turn to pounding, and you blindly shove the blanket off of yourself.

You don’t even think to look if Simon’s in the bed with you; not when your stomach is twisting so horribly you think you won’t make it to the bathroom. You push yourself out of bed and stumble out of the room and down the hall, and you don’t vomit, but you’re nauseous as you’re on your knees, your hands slick with sweat as you grip the toilet seat—something you’ll cringe and gag at later.

You aren’t too sure how long you’re there, waiting for the vomit to bubble up your esophagus, but you eventually feel a usually warm hand—cool at the moment due to your fever—rub the back of your neck. “Hey..” Simon’s deep voice fills your ears. sounds tired, as if he was sleeping before this. He probably was. You don’t look at him as your eyes are closed, but you let out a whimper of acknowledgment.

“Tilt your head up, love.. Mhm, that’s it..” You follow his direction, feeling something press against your forehead, a few flicking noises, and then a beep. Whatever he held against your forehead, Simon pulls away. “39 degrees..” Simon mutters, a sigh leaving him. “Hey, you think you’re gonna vomit?” He asks, being straight forward whilst also being conscious of your condition. You take a moment to think and you shake your head. “No,” You croak. “Just nauseous.”

Simon hums, his hand touching the back of your neck again reflexively in an attempt to provide you some comfort; some familiarity whilst your head spins with illness and pounding pain. The twisting and swirling feeling of the nausea in your gut and throat doesn’t settle for a good while, muffled noises of despair leaving your lips. Each time, Simon quietly acknowledges your pain, praising you for enduring it, that he knows that it hurts.

Simon hates when you’re in pain of any kind. He hates it from when you have an annoyingly painful stuffy nose to stubbing your toe on the corner of the couch—when you’re sick like how you are now, to when you frown when the water in the sink is a bit too hot for your liking. If Simon could shield you from any harm and pain, he would in an instant. In a perfect world, you would never be sick and never stub your toes, you would never have colds and the water would magically be the correct temperature.

Alas, this is reality.

“It’s too early to phone the doctor but I will make sure to do first thing when they open, alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep voice rings in your ears, so low that it vibrates in your chest for a moment—and just for a second, your nausea goes away. You wish you could box his voice up and put it in your ears all the time from how soothing you find it. You realize you didn’t respond when Simon calls your name softly and you nod, your eyes remaining shut. “I wanna die.” You moan unseriously, your eyebrows twinging together from the pain between them deep in your skull.

Simon chuckles and squeezes the back of your neck softly. “I’m going to fetch you a glass of water and some medicine to help you until morning. I’ll be right back.” You respond with a simple nod, focused on keeping the nausea away. You’re sure Simon has teleporting capabilities because he’s back by your side in record time. He’s helping you tip your head back, his hand carefully cradling the back of your head and slipping a couple pills into your mouth, carefully giving you sips of water. Not too quick to further your nausea, not too slow to have you think about it too much.

The water is refreshing and cold when it slips down your throat. “There you go,” Simon praises softly, his tone so soft that it contradicts the natural low, grittiness in his voice. “Gave you some anti nausea, some pain meds. I’m not sure if I should give you any fever reducers yet. I’ll be monitorin’ your fever.”

You nod, shuddering slightly as the hand on the back of your head goes to your jaw and neck, guiding your head to lean against his thigh as Simon is standing up straight. “I don’t think I can move yet.” You croak loud enough for him to hear, which earns his callused thumb stroking over your cheek. “That’s alright, love.” Simon murmurs. “We can stay like this as long as y’need. I’ll get ya set up in the living room when you’re feeling a bit better, yeah?”

You nod, turning your head to bury half of your face into his sweatpants, feeling eternally grateful for this man. It took you both a long time to get to this point together—a lot of push and pull between you two, a lot of communication and a lot of trust. In the end, it’s been worth it.

🏷️; @mlmxreader @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @queen-leviathan @specter319 @morganight

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[bratzforchris]

can you do one where chris has a gf who gets psychogenic fevers? thank you!

Masking

Summary: Autistic masking takes a lot out of you and leads to you running a psychogenic fever, but luckily for you, Chris is always right by your side to help you<3

Pairing: Chris x neurodivergentfem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of masking, autistic meltdown

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Thank you for the request! I actually experience psychogenic fevers myself (related to masking and burnout), so this was a very self-indulgent request :) For those of you that don't know, psychogenic fevers are stress related and psychosomatic. You can read this article for more info<3 Hate/ableism/etc will be blocked and deleted ♡ Enjoy!!

There were very few parts, if any, of your relationship with Chris that you didn’t like. Everything was absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend spoiled you rotten, taking great care to make sure you were okay physically, mentally, and emotionally, and always made sure to both accommodate and help you accommodate your disability. Chris never made you feel wrong, bad, or different for the way your brain worked. Quite the opposite, actually. However, there were things that even he couldn’t control for you. 

Like today, for example. The morning had started off rather rocky, with Matt unintentionally finishing off the milk before you’d had your bowl of cereal. Frosted Flakes was one of your safe foods, and not being able to have them, along with getting out of your routine, had left you teary-eyed and anxious. The middle triplet had apologized profusely, and although you forgave him immediately, it still put you out of whack. Then, instead of your usual afternoon snuggle and stim time with Chris, you’d both been running around the house getting ready for the movie premiere the trio had been invited to this evening. 

All of those events had led you to now, standing off in the corner of the ballroom that had been used for the afterparty, nursing a sweating glass of Sprite. You adored being Chris’ girlfriend, but sometimes all the things you had to attend as a plus one became exhausting, especially when you had to mask around all the people you didn’t know. You’d been suppressing your stimming all evening, as well as small talking with a variety of people without Chris by your side, and it was beginning to wear on you. You shivered, setting your drink down on a nearby tray and rubbing your arms, both as a stim and to warm yourself up. You supposed it was the thin, silky slip dress you had on, but for some reason you felt awfully cold. 

In the wake of trying to warm yourself up, you hadn’t even noticed Chris appear by your side. “Hey ma,” he smiled, sipping his own drink. “I’ve barely seen you all night.”

You hummed softly, still trying to warm yourself up. “Is your jacket in the car?” You asked softly, wincing at the ache in your joints. 

Chris studied you for a moment, assessing your quiet voice and shaking frame. “Are you okay? You’re not looking too good…” After being with you for nearly two years, your boyfriend could practically read you like a book, always being in tune with your moods and feelings. He also knew that you experienced psychogenic fevers, and that the lack of routine, as well as masking around a large group, probably wasn’t doing you any favors. 

“I’m cold,” You mumbled. “I feel like I’m getting the flu or something but I don’t have a stuffy nose or anything.” 

Had you been able to think more clearly, you would’ve realized that you were currently going through what was unfortunately a pretty common experience for you. You had started experiencing psychogenic fevers in high school, once the stress, combined with being neurodivergent, kicked in. They were usually low grade fevers and body aches that would come on during the night due to stress and anxiety and then be gone by the next morning, but they made you feel awful nonetheless.

Chris ran his thumb across your cheek softly, noting how you leaned into his touch like he was the last source of warmth on earth. “D’ya wanna go home, ma?” he asked gently. “You’ve got a fever, babe.”

You looked up at your boyfriend as tears collected on your lash line. “Oh…I guess I should’ve realized…” You mumbled, the thought of why you were feeling terrible finally kicking in. “We don’t have to go, though. I’ll be alright. Enjoy the party.” You tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“Sweetheart, there’s no way I’m gonna let you just sit here all stressed and burning up. This party’s shit, anyway. Stay here, ‘kay? I’m gonna go get Matt and Nick.”

You felt your heart swell as you watched Chris walk away. Despite his assurance, you knew how much your boyfriend loved parties, and the fact that he was willingly leaving one for you made you want to cry. You curled into yourself as much as possible on the small couch next to you while you waited for the triplets. All you wanted at this point was a hot bath and for Chris to hold you. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

The next thing you knew, Chris was gently shaking your shoulder, brushing your bangs off your forehead. “Ma, come on, honey. We’re going home.”

You sleepily blinked open your eyes, realizing you had fallen asleep in the time it had taken for Chris to find Matt and Nick. “Oh…I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep.”

Chris smiled softly, while Nick looked on worriedly. “Matt’s getting the car.” he explained at your confusion to only seeing two-thirds of the triplets. 

Your boyfriend helped you up gently, leading you by the arm towards the exit while Nick shielded you from onlookers’ eyes protectively. Had Chris had his choice, he would’ve carried you, but he didn’t want to completely embarrass you, nor did he want photos of you not feeling well circling around social media. You shivered when the three of you stepped out into the cool night air, whimpering softly. 

Chris helped you into the car, where Matt was idling at the curb. You immediately grabbed his hoodie from the front seat, pulling it over your shaking frame. “I’m cold.” You whispered. 

Your boyfriend caressed you in a tight hug as well as he could with his own seatbelt, holding you close so that you could feel his body heat as Matt sped home. By the time the car had pulled up outside of your shared LA home, you were practically asleep, your aches and pains making you miserable. Chris gently shuffled you inside, leading you upstairs to the bedroom.

“Do you want a hot shower, ma?” he asked you softly, helping you remove your earrings and necklaces. 

You shook your head, feeling too fatigued to do much else other than cuddle under the covers. Chris seemed to understand, continuing to help you undress with a soft smile on his face. In his eyes, you always looked like a goddess, no matter how sick or tired you felt. You sighed softly once you were dressed in a much more comfortable outfit that consisted of one of your boyfriend’s soft, big shirts and some cozy pajama pants. 

The brunette kissed your forehead with a soft ‘be right back’ as you snuggled up under your soft duvet. You laid across Chris’ pillow while you waited, breathing in his soft, boyish scent. Before you knew it, your boyfriend returned with a handful of medical supplies in one arm and a warm, wet rag in the other. Chris used the washcloth to gently remove your makeup, pressing kisses to your fevered skin as he did so. 

“Do you know what brought this on?” Chris whispered gently, sitting beside you. 

He had a pretty good idea of what had brought on this stress-induced fever, but he wanted to give you a chance to voice your feelings first. You rolled over, sniffling softly and pressing your face into his thigh as you tried to voice your concerns. Despite being home and in bed, you still felt the stress of being out of your routine and masking wearing on you. 

“Not right now? I’m too tired…” You mumbled, a sniffle escaping you. 

“Okay, ma. That’s okay. Let’s take your temperature, okay?” Chris gently grabbed the thermometer off the nightstand, gently sticking it under your tongue while he caressed your cheek. “100.3 (37.9 C). Not too bad, but enough to make you pretty miserable, huh?”

You just nodded sadly as Chris passed you some Tylenol and a water bottle. You downed the medicine quickly, shuddering at the bitter taste in your mouth. Your boyfriend easily helped you lay back down, pulling you into his chest as he spooned you. Instead of focusing on the pain you felt, you snuggled into Chris, realizing that this was the routine you had been craving all day. 

You and Chris would always spoon at night before you went to bed, talking about everything and nothing while huddled up under the weighted blanket that had been placed on the bed at your request. Tonight, Chris didn’t pressure you to speak. Instead, he mumbled little things about how strong and beautiful you were, how he hoped you felt better soon, and how much he adored you while he traced little shapes onto the soft skin of your arm. 

Despite your pain, you felt yourself becoming less tense. You knew your fever probably wouldn’t go away until tomorrow morning, and that you would need lots of routine and special interest time to get yourself back to fully normal, but for now, you enjoyed the brunette's soft hold, relishing the way it made your body feel perfectly aligned after a day of overwhelm. 

It was much easier for you to fall asleep than you had anticipated, the combination of Chris’ snuggles and the medicine working its magic lulling you to sleep. By the time you woke up the next morning, your temperature was back to normal and you made sure to shower your lovely boyfriend with affection for what a great nurse he had been. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor one shot where ellie calls mel mom for the first time in front of all the abbott family, maybe she gets sick at school and calls for her mom and when reader and mel show up she refuses to got with reader and they realize it’s mel she’s talking about

bestie. i got you.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Title Change

WC: ~2.65k

Every year, right around the holidays, Ellie gets sick with whatever is running rampant through the school. And every year, you absolutely dread that time. It could be just the stereotypical, run of the mill fever, but it could also be the flu, a stomach bug, strep throat, pneumonia, pink eye… the worst was right before you moved out of Utah and she ended up with croup and in the hospital overnight. You’re pretty sure you’ll never be able to get the images or sounds from that experience out of your head. Seeing your little girl down for the count is so hard for you, and it doesn’t get any easier as she gets older- she’s still the same little love bug that you remember fussing over when her temperature ran a bit too high for your liking and she would fall asleep at a moment’s notice on your chest.

This year, she gets sick without fail, although you hate to admit that neither you nor your girlfriend had picked up on it when you brought her with you to school today. Her cheeks were a bit rosy this morning as you walked into Abbott, yes- but this December has been particularly cold so far and she had insisted on running around in her t-shirt and shorts this morning despite the fact that the living room was a crisp 65 degrees this morning when you woke up. And then on top of that, you were running a bit late and didn’t get your usual parking spot close to the front of the school.

Your little girl had been adamant that she stay attached to Melissa’s hip while the three of you sat in the staff lounge before everyone else comes in, which is not an uncommon occurrence. It’s warm and peaceful until Janine comes in with cookies for her students, and inevitably one for your daughter. Ellie begs you to let her have it, and you chuckle before relenting. It turns out that was the last think she needs because she’s running circles around the shorter second grade teacher within five minutes. Thankfully though, the time comes where the child high on sugar is no longer you’re problem- she’s now her teachers problem. The two of you walk her down to her first grade classroom before the rest of the kiddos trickle in.

“Be a good girl today, little miss,” you crouch down and open your arms.

Ellie’s arms are around your neck and squeezing you tight. “I always am, Momma.”

“I know, but I’m just reminding you,” you chuckle as you kiss her forehead. It’s a bit warm, but nothing that is too alarming. You release her, and it’s your girlfriend’s turn.

“Love you, kiddo,” Melissa embraces your daughter.

“I love you too,” the seven year old sighs as she rests her head on the second grade teacher’s shoulder for a few seconds. And then she’s bouncing into her classroom and greeting her teacher with the gusto that only a little girl who had a cookie at seven in the morning could have. You and the redhead chuckle as you watch before you loop an arm around your girlfriend and walk down to your little corner of the hallway.

“Did she feel a little warm to you?” Melissa asks you quietly.

You shrug. “A little, but she was also running circles around Janine not five minutes ago.”

“I guess,” she says softly. “I just know you said she always gets sick right before the holidays, and with everything going around…”

“God,” you groan. “I’ve had five kids out at the minimum everyday this week. I’m praying to God Ellie doesn’t get sick for break.”

“Knock on wood,” Melissa sighs as she knocks against her door. “But if she does get sick, we’ll be here for her.”

“Until I get sick with it too because she insists on laying on me,” you quip quietly.

The redhead kisses your temple. “And I’ll be here to take care of you.”

“It’s still insane to me that you haven’t been sick in over ten years.”

“It’s one of the few benefits I get for being in this germ breeding ground for so long,” Melissa chuckles.

Your kiddos come in and start on their morning work, and all is fine and normal until your classroom phone starts to ring. That’s unusual. Nobody ever uses the classroom phones because your crew will just call or text your personal phone, or they’ll just make the trip down to your end of the hallway. Honestly, the only people who really use the classroom phones are… the nurses.

“Hello?” you answer, and you pray to God it’s the nurse calling about the student that you had just sent down to the nurse’s office five minutes ago. But June comes walking back into the classroom right on time to confirm that this phone call isn’t about her.

“Hey.” It’s Ellie’s teacher.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to call and ask if Ellie was feeling okay when you brought her into school today?”

You exhale a heavy breath. “She was running around the apartment this morning singing Frozen and ran circles around Janine in the lounge this morning, so I would say so. Why?”

“Poor thing’s been shivering at her desk for the last twenty minutes while we’ve been doing word work,” your coworker says quietly. “I asked her if she had a sweater with her, but she said she left it with you.”

“Send her down,” you tell the woman.

“Will do,” the first grade teacher nods into the phone. “Thanks.”

Ellie appears in your doorway a few minutes later. Your third graders immediately start cooing over how adorable she is.

“Hey, baby girl,” you smile at her from your place at the front of the room. “Come to get your sweater?”

She nods before coughing a bit. You frown a bit, the lines in your forehead etching their way into your face. You tell your students to work through the next math problem while you attend to your little girl.

As you help her pull on her sweater, you whisper to her, “You feeling okay?” You press your hand against her forehead, and then her cheeks, and then her neck. She does feel warmer than she had earlier this morning.

“Jus’ cold,” Ellie mumbles.

“Okay, baby,” you sigh softly. “Well, you tell your teacher if you aren’t feeling well, and I can always take you home, yeah?”

“I’ll be okay, Momma,” your daughter tells you. “I’m tough like… like Mel.”

You chuckle a bit before kissing her head. “Okay, sweetness. But still, if you aren’t feeling well, that’s okay.”

“M’kay, Momma,” you little girl sighs as she holds her arms out to hug you. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little one,” you whisper as you kiss her still somewhat chubby cheek. “Head on back to class, and I’ll see you at the end of the school day, okay?”

She scampers out of the room, happy to have that extra layer on. Ellie really is going back to her classroom, but as she passes Melissa’s door, she can’t help but stop in the open doorway.

Your girlfriend raises her brows at the sight of your little girl. “Hey, El. What’s going on?”

“I had to get my sweater from Momma, but then I was passing your room and I wanted to say hi,” Ellie smiles bashfully from the door. “Can I come in and give you a hug?”

“One quick one,” the redhead sighs dramatically as she opens her eyes wide. Your daughter knows she isn’t one bit annoyed with the big grin that your girlfriend is wearing. “But then you have to get back to your room.”

“I know,” the first grader says as she runs into the room and into Melissa’s arms. “Quick snuggle, and then back to Miss Smith.”

“Right. Good girl,” Melissa praises your daughter before releasing her from the hug. “I’ll see you at the end of the day, okay?”

Ellie hums her response before stretching on her toes and kissing the second grade teacher’s cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, El.”

“I know!” your little girl grins as she skips out of the room and heads back for her own classroom.

By the time lunch rolls around, you still haven’t heard anything from your daughter’s first grade teacher or the nurses, so you assume that Ellie really is just toughing it out until you all get home for the night.

“Hey,” you greet your girlfriend sitting her place with a kiss to the temple. “How’s your day going so far?”

“I had a little visitor today,” Melissa chuckles. “Oh?”

“Ellie came in wanting a hug after she got her sweater from you,” your girlfriend smiles. “She’s lucky she’s cute.”

“Did she feel warm to you?” you ask her the same question she asked you this morning.

“I asked you that this morning,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “But yes, why?”

“Smith called asking if El was feeling well while I was teaching math and told me that she was shivering for the entirety of their word work time.”

“Poor thing’s probably getting sick,” the redhead sighs as she brings a forkful up to her mouth.

You hang your head. “Great.”

“At least it isn’t during break that she’s going to be sick,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

You nod. “I guess, but I hate seeing her like-”

“I want Mommy!” you can hear your little girl before you can see her. You raise a brow at that though- she never calls you ‘Mommy’. You’ve always been ‘Momma’, from the time that she was born. The staff room door whips open, and there is a wailing Ellie with snot running down her face as she clings to her first grade teacher’s hand. “I want Mommy!”

“Y/N, I’m so-” Miss Smith tries to get out.

You shake your head, refusing her apology- you know how your daughter can get when she’s not feeling well, and it’s quite clear to you now that Ellie is under the weather. You rush over to her and crouch down in front of her.

Melissa raises her brow, and she contemplates making her way over. But you’re always so good with your daughter, and you she figures that you have this one handled.

The rest of the Abbott crew makes their way in, sidestepping around you to get to their own spots. But of course, Ava stops in her tracks.

“Why’s your kid so snotty?”

“Ava,” you scold.

The principal shrugs and bypasses you to get to the coffee machine.

“I want Mommy!” Ellie continues to wail.

You open your arms for your sick little girl to fall into. “Momma’s right here, baby. I’m right here.”

“I want Mommy!” the child refuses and goes so far as to stomp her foot in frustration. That action is not something you would usually condone, but you let it slide just this one time. God, is she so sick she’s delirious and doesn’t realize that you’re right in front of her?

“Sweetheart, I’m right here,” you whisper and you reach out a hand to brush away a few of the hairs that are in her face. You pull your sleeve over your hand and wipe the snot away from her face. “Momma’s right here.”

“I want Mommy!” Ellie shrieks again as the tears pour down her face.

You run a hand over your face before pulling her into your arms. You lift her onto your hip and hold her as she cries, offering the rest of the staff an apologetic look for the commotion your daughter is causing. 

“Mommy’s here, baby,” you sigh softly. You take your seat back next to your girlfriend as you try to soothe your daughter enough to be able to take her through the halls to gather her things to head home for the day.

Melissa reaches a hand over and starts rubbing circles on Ellie’s back in hopes of helping to calm her down. At her touch, your little girl’s head pops up from its place on your shoulder, and she immediately reaches for the redhead.

Your girlfriend pulls Ellie into her lap and holds her, rocking her gently.

“Mommy,” the little girl whimpers as her cries and wails turn into soft sniffles.

Everyone’s eyes in the room, including your own, go wide. Melissa’s jaw drops, and she looks to you.

“What was that, baby?” you ask softly.

“I telled you and Miss Smith that I wanted Mommy,” Ellie mumbles as your girlfriend’s warm touch and gentle rocking starts to lull her to sleep. She starts to lazily play with the red curls that are within her reach as her eyes flutter shut. She’s snoring softly against Melissa’s shoulder within minutes.

The silence that has washed over the staff lounge at Ellie’s words is finally broken when the redhead asks softly, “Did she- did she call me ‘Mommy’? Am I ‘Mommy’?”

“I think she did,” Barbara smiles from her place.

“Wow,” Melissa whispers as she looks down at the little girl in her lap. “Wow.”

You also whisper your shock and surprise.

Those green eyes that you’ve fallen in love with look into yours seriously. “Are you- how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly?” you ask quietly.

She nods.

You smile softly, a bit sadly. “I wish it didn’t take her being ridiculously sick for her to call you that… but it feels so right.”

The second grade teacher takes one hand off of Ellie’s back to take your own. She squeezes it gently with tears in her eyes. 

“Sorry,” she chuckles as she wipes at her eyes. “I didn’t think I would get so emotional over this.”

You chuckle softly, as does Barbara.

“Well,” the kindergarten teacher looks to the two of you expectantly. “Little Ellie needs her Mommy and her Momma to take her home and look after her.”

You glance to your girlfriend, and she nods without hesitation.

“Even if Ava and Mr. J are our subs?” you double check.

“El needs us,” Melissa tells you firmly. “I don’t care who is with our kids as long as we’re with Ellie.”

“I’ll get everything together if you want to stay here with her?” you ask.

She nods. “You know where my sub plans are?”

“Of course I do,” you laugh softly as you stand. “Just give me like fifteen minutes, and then we can head out.”

When you return back to the staff lounge, Melissa is still holding your little girl close to her heart and humming softly while glaring at everyone else, daring them to make noise and wake the Ellie.

“Hey,” you lug your bags, your girlfriend’s bags, and your little girl’s backpack in as quietly as you can. “We’re good to go.”

She stands from her place, still managing to keep Ellie asleep on her. You’re both able to get her in the car and back into the apartment while she naps, and once the little girl is settled on the couch and still asleep, you take Melissa into the kitchen. You wrap your arms around her neck and look her in the eyes.

“I love you,” you whisper as you press your foreheads together.

“I love you too,” she tells you quietly. “And El.”

“You’re so good with her,” you tell Melissa softly. “So good.”

She hums before kissing you gently.

“How do you feel about being ‘Mommy’?” you ask your girlfriend.

Your girlfriend’s eyes well with tears again. “Like I’m on top of the world… that little girl of yours… wow.”

“That little girl of ours,” you correct her. “Ours.”

As if Ellie knows the two of you are talking about her, she whines out from her place on the couch. “Mommy! Momma!”

Motherhood never stops, and the two of you head into the living room to hold your daughter together. 

TAGS (and lmk if you wanna be added!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Love Sucks V. The Sickness

Vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

He’s just a gloomy, little guy.

The Masterlist 🩸

Steve couldn’t get sick.

You knew that. He knew that. Steve knew that you knew that. The information had come after a long conversation underneath the warm sheets in your bed, hands clasped together between chests, noses almost touching, talking about how Steve had died.

How he hadn’t felt pain since, not unless he was hungry. He whispered about forgetting what it felt like to feel sickly, to have a stuffy nose when winter drew in, how the sting of sunburn felt on his skin in the summer. At first, you envied your boyfriend, longed for the immortality, the immunity. But living came with so many feelings and not all were good, not all were nice. But god, to feel meant that you were alive, right?

It’s why, when you came home from work one day to find Steve curled in your bed like a cat, you humoured him.

The vampire was pale, like always, a summer tan from who knows when faded and old, his hair unsettled and floppy, his eyes tired and red rimmed. He wasn’t too hungry, he’d just fed a few nights before but his fangs were out, two white tips peeking out his mouth. He was frowning, grumpy looking, nose wrinkled.

“Hey, handsome. S’wrong?” You crossed to your window, still open from the when Steve had shimmied it up and crawled in.

“I’m sick,” Steve coughed feebly, a fake sounding thing that didn’t really itch at the back of his throat but you cooed all the same. “I think I have the flu.”

You suppressed a smile, moving to crawl onto the bed with him. You didn’t tell him he couldn’t get sick, you didn’t like to remind the boy of his undead state - it didn’t seem polite. So you cooed again and sought him out under you duvet and pillows, threading your fingers through his hair as he stretched towards you, head seeking out your lap.

“You are?” You queried, voice filled with just as much concern as it would if Steve really was ill. “Baby. Can I get you anything?” You bit back another grin. “Soup? Medicine? A hot water bottle?”

‘Baby.’ Something inside Steve’s empty chest throbbed and ached. He felt warm.

You both knew Steve didn’t eat any real food, nothing solid anyway. He said pizza tasted like sand and anything too crunchy hurt his fangs so he lived off of coffee and he stole your ice cream in the summer. You also knew medicine wouldn’t do a thing for him, but the thought meant more than the reality.

When he pouted and nodded morosely, mumbling requests for a hot water bottle you fetched one and slid it under your sheets with him, relenting all too quickly when he pulled you in with it. He was cold, as usual, no fever to be found in his skin but you curled around him like you were willing him better, hiding your smile in his neck and pretending you didn’t see his grin either.

So you stayed like that until the sun set and the October chill leaked into your bedroom, until your stomach growled and Steve relented and released you from his arms. He pouted as you picked at some cheese fries, lingering in your kitchen like a ghost, waiting for you to be free once again, hands all for him instead of dinner.

“I’m sick,” he claimed again, forlorn, sniffling. “You gotta make me feel better.”

[deesblanketfort]

Sick and regressed ☆´ˎ˗ ︶︶︶ 

Well, while I'm writting this I'm bedridden (likely with covid), and for some reason I really want to spend my sick days regressed and take something good out of it at least.

Getting comfy!

🧦: Pajamas time! Is there anything more regressor-coded than cozy printed pajamas, an animal kigurumi or onesie? I'd say no. And since I'm staying on bed, I'm surely wearing those all day long.

🛏️: Bed setup! When you're bedridden, a bed table ends up being really useful in case you want to do stuff that requires a flat surface. If you have one of those, lucky you! I, however had to improvise with a smooth wooden board standing on my lap, therefore any kind of long, resilient and flat surface can do the job just fine.

🧦: Blanket fort! Alternatively, if you're able to roam around your house or have someone to help, you can build a blanket fort over your bed or a comfy surface to stay in!

🛏️: Sick gear! Runny nose? Bring tissues. Got a fever? Make a cold damp towel for your forehead. Tummy aches or localized pain? Make a hot water compress. And make sure to keep track of the meds you're taking, of course.

🧦: Get your plushies! Since what I got is very contagious close contact with anyone is out of the table, but my stuffies are completely immune to sickness and ready to cuddle! (I'll have to wash them afterwards to disinfect them though)

Games and activities!

🎮: Viddy games! Either on computer, phone or a console (handheld preferred), videogames are perfectly stationary and don't require much movement from your part.

🖍️: Table games! Table games are also stationary and can be played right from your bed if you have a bed table, although most games need other people to play with you, your plushies can serve this purpose.

🎮: Play pretend! Playing pretend can be limited when you're bedridden, but there are some scenarios you're perfectly able to do! Such as pretending you're a shop owner and your stuffies are the clients, pretending your stuffies are your doctors/nurses taking care of you, or vice versa. Things like tea parties and pretend schools are still on the table!

🖍️: Arts and crafts! Being sick won't stop me from wanting to draw and color, since I can do it from my bed anyways! Aside from drawing and coloring, I might as well do some collage and paper craft, just might need help to clean up afterwards.

🎮: Cartoon time! No better opportunity to (re)watch your favorite cartoons than when you're sick, bedridden and bored, right? And since this brings me comfort, here are some cartoon episodes that center on being sick: Bumpy and the Wise Old Wolfhound (Bluey), Steve Gets The Sniffles (Blues Clues), Bear Flu (We Bare Bears), Doctor Daisy M.D (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse), Arthur's Chicken Pox (Arthur)

Snack time!

🍼: Hot drinks! Specially if you're with a cold or a sore throat in general, hot drinks such as hot cocoa and tea are perfect for warming up an icky throat.

🧁: Spices for a sore throat! Like mint, honey, ginger and lemon. I'm sure there's plentiful of drinks you can make using these!

🍼: Give preference to healthy snacks and meals! Like fruits and veggies, yogurt, noodles, soup or sandwiches. Bonus points if they're arranged in a fun shape (animal, plant, star, etc)!

🧁: Keep your appetite in check! It's pretty common to lose your appetite when sick, therefore I'd say it's ideal to keep your meals smaller (and sometimes eat more often) than usual.

Taking care of yourself!

🧸: Stay hydrated! Water is always good, and if you're sick you likely need it more than usual, drinking from sippy cups, baby bottles, straw cups or any kind of fun themed cup is usually more fun and encouraging than boring adult cups.

🧶: Keep your temperature in check as well! Besides from checking if you have a fever ever so often, it's also good to keep yourself warm with blankets and heating if your body feels cold, or alternatively, turning on fans and using lighter sheets instead of blankets if you're too hot.

🧸: Beware the germs! If you got a contagious disease (like me), make sure to properly wash and disinfect anything you bring to your mouth such as pacis, teethers, bottles and cutlery before and after using them. Plus, it's important to wear a mask or ask others to wear a mask when near you as well.

🧶: Resting is key! Some of these days I'm too tired to do anything above, and I'd rather just nap the whole day, and that's okay! Sometimes being sick means not being able to do anything at all and it's important to have your extended napping time to get better.

[secretsandwriting]

Obsessed

Ethoslab x gn reader

Where Etho is sick and the reader is dragged in to take care of him

As per usual, I've attempted gn reader but I am used to writing fem so if I messed it up let me know and I'll fix it

(UNEDITED)

You weren’t sure why you were pinged by Gem to meet at Etho’s base as soon as possible, but there you were, landing a few steps away from Gem in front of Etho’s base. She turned around, clearly relieved to see you.

“Etho’s sick.” That wasn’t good but you weren’t sure why that required your immediate arrival, Gem seemed to catch on to your unsaid question. “He’s refusing to believe he’s sick and won’t let anyone help him. Tango said he’s way too warm to just brush it off, and since Etho listens to you a little better than the rest of us I asked you to come.”

“I don’t know if he will on this, especially if he wants to get back to his redstone.” You followed Gem into Etho’s base and found him arguing with Tango and Pearl, both trying to get him to lay back down while Etho tried to get past them to work on whatever he felt was calling his name. Which left only one method that would maybe work.

“Etho?” He whipped around and smiled through his mask at you. 

“Hey Y/n! Want to come look at my farms if Pearl and Tango would get out of the way?” You held up some papers. 

“Actually, I have some plans I’ve been testing for a farm but I’m not sure if I have the numbers right. Would you mind looking over them with me?” Etho paused and his gaze flickered between you and the papers.  

“Of course!” With that, your fate was sealed. Etho ushered you to the kitchen table and the papers were laid out and he started pouring over them, figuring it out in his head and mumbling it out. It didn’t take long to hear the effects of his fever. His rambling made no sense. Less sense than most of his redstone rambles. While he was talking, you gently placed your hand against his forehead. Etho froze before ever so slightly leaning against your hand. 

Tango was right, he was burning up. 

“Alright, that's enough. You need to get some rest, your fever is high.” Immediately Etho protested, “I’ll make you a deal. If you listen to what I tell you, I’ll take care of you. If you don’t, I’ll ask Doc too.” He weighed his choices. “Head to bed, I’ll be there in a minute with some things.” Etho jumped up and headed to his room, he was out cold when you went up three minutes later. 

You took that time to get everything you needed together and make some light food for when he woke up. Knowing full well a sick Etho would take advantage of any open second to get away and go back to work and once he started it could be almost impossible to pull him away. 

Etho was out until the next morning, and as predicted, he tried to escape out the window. Thankfully you had blocked all of them off so he couldn’t but he still tried. Begrudgingly, he accepted the tea and sipped on it slowly while he ate his soup. 

When you checked his forehead, he leaned into your touch more than he had the day before, he was also quite a bit warmer then he had been. Hoping you were wrong, you gently pushed his hair off his forehead and kissed it. It was worse, though you were pretty sure the sudden flush in his cheeks was not from the fever. 

Etho whined and complained when he was sentenced back to bed but immediately calmed down when you offered to read something to him. Settling down under a large pile of blankets he fell asleep to the fairy tale you were reading to him.

The next time he woke up, he was delirious and to make it worse, he kept trying to get up to go work on some redstone project. Nothing you tried would convince him to settle down and at least stay inside. 

“You wanna know what will keep me inside?”

“Yes Etho, I do!” Etho’s expression morphed into something you weren’t sure you wanted to know and he leaned a little closer to whisper to you.”

“A kiss, and not on the cheek, it has to be on the lips and you have to cuddle with me.” Oh boy, you had a feeling you knew how this was going to end.”

“I will give you a kiss on the lips and cuddle with you, if you listen to me and you can collect it when you're better and no longer contagious.” He pouted at the last part but seemed to accept it as he settled back down in bed and fell back asleep. 

Three days later, Etho was better and you left to go back to your base for the first time in 6 days. It was nice to finally shower in your own home, and it would be nice to finally get a full nights sleep again in your own bed.

What you didn’t expect was for someone to join you.

“It’s just me.” Etho. “I am here to collect my kiss and cuddles.” Of course Etho would remember that, why did you even agree to it i- Your thoughts were cut off by Etho pulling you closer to him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years.” Etho whispered before closing the space between your lips. It was a short kiss, but damn was it good. You could feel the questions in the air, questions you weren’t sure if you knew how to answer. So you did the only thing you could think of that could possibly answer a few of them without having to find the words.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you pulled him back for another one. You could feel his smirk through your kiss and his arms tightened around your waist. 

“I didn’t know you were so obsessed with me.” He teased, before you could fire a response back he continued, a little more serious, “It’s ok though, I’m obsessed with you too.”

[bumblinv]

Hi! Are your requests open? If they are I'm just gonna leave this here, Neteyam, Ao'nung, Lo'ak (sperate) x OmaticayaGnReader who is sick, like flu for the na'vi or something like that, they have a fever and the chills and everything could it also be fluffy and absolutely adorable

--- personal doctors ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

neteyam, ao'nung, rotxo (seperated) x gn!metkayina!reader

you catch a cold, its time for your lover to take care of you

a/n ; im not good at writing lo’ak, so i bring you rotxo instead! i hope you dont mind<3

: ̗̀➛ neteyam

realizes your sickness even before you did

when you first sneeze or cough, his mind goes straight to the day before, recalling any peculiar food you've had

neteyam would notices too, when you pause between chores to massage your forehead

he will take over cleaning. making sure every corner is clean so you won't sneeze from the dust. he also makes sure you stay hydrated and even whips you up nutritious meals until your condition got better. usually, the fever never got up to you

but when it does, he goes in full momma mode

this man grows with 3 younger siblings, caring for someone is natural for him. he would stay by your side, whispering your name every few hours to wake you up, so he could feed and help you drink

neteyam might not be the best healer, like her sister, but he can make certain herb drinks

makes you ginger tea regularly to warm up your shivering body

you tend to get all sort of nightmares from your sickness, but dont worry, you’re waking up to neteyam since he’s cuddling you all night long. he will run his slender fingers through your hair, whispering comforting words to your ear

“everything’s okay, dear. i’m here” 

we all need neteyam in our lives:(

_

: ̗̀➛ ao'ung

acts like he doesn’t care, but the moment your temperature starts to rise, he brings his mother straight to you

the tsahik would probably do nothing. she tell him to go ask kiri for some herb tea, and to make sure you drink and eat well, since fevers could heal by itself

but mans stressed

would refuse to let you lift a single muscle. he will be the one helping you change, wipe your face to keep you fresh, feeding you

since he’s not the best cook, he would ask tsireya to make you soups, wich she happily does. she makes great food, but your tongue tastes sour and your appetite is no where to be found

so ao'nung scolds you

“quit acting like a baby and please, just eat” 

you know ao’nung. none of his scolding are anger, he’s just extremely worried.

watching you go to sleep after being scolded makes him feel like a villain. he would join you in bed and whispers an apology. gently bringing you closer to his chest as the both of you fall asleep

remember he's a worrier? it makes him act too much like a mom. he will insist on taking care of you, even when you're feeling better. will only stop until he's sure you're 100% healthy

ao'nung is a big softie

_

: ̗̀➛ rotxo 

most clueless compared to the other 2

pls dont be mad, its not his fault

something tells me he’s an only child, a one that rarely got sick too, so he doesn’t know anything about caring for ill people

rotxo might be confused, but he’s not an idiot

the moment he touches your forehead and realizes you're scorching hot, rotxo instinctively wraps a fluffy blanket around you. the man will make you drink a lot of water, and went off running to the sullys

“what the fuck?” 

“sorry lo'ak! its an emergency!”

he got home with omaticayan food wraps in hand. you’re too sick to say anything, so when he lifts your head to feed you, you don’t protest

the one thing that scares you the most is that his jokes completely disappears

all his stupid jokes, gone.

not in a bad way, this man is just so dedicated on you that he stops joking around. he cannot stand that you're feeling all sick and uncomfortable and wants you back to your healthy self

this man is so serious, even when he tried feeding you raw cloves of garlic

one time, he heard kiri saying that garlics are ‘good for boosting the immune system’ 

he’s not wrong😭😭😭

but kiri hits him on the head once she founds out

instead of feeding you raw garlic, she gives you a mix of aged garlic and honey as medicine such an asian mom move

he feels bad afterwards, would kiss your entire face despite your protest

the next day, you wake up feeling fresh. but your lover boys voice got so hoarse from sore throat and complains about his sore limbs

yes, he got your fever and yes, he never regret kissing you, even when you're sick

[myfictionaldreams]

Hey love! Quick question, how do you think mafia stucky would be when their for l is on her period or sick? 🥺

Sick Day //Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

A/N: I've had this requested so many times, I hope you all enjoy! Also for this specific anon, I've already written a fic where reader has her period called 'i don't care'

Tags: SFW, fluff, lots of comfort, sickfic, anxiety, coughing, fever (just being generally unwell), steve & bucky are stressed

Words: 4.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“Are you ok? You’re never this quiet, it’s unnerving”.

You playfully shoved Bucky as he walked past where you stood, carrying a crate filled with the latest shipment of goods that had arrived at the gang's warehouse that afternoon. Your boyfriend hardly moved from the push but he playfully pretended to drop the important box that seemed to scare Steve more than yourself as he too pushed against Bucky as he walked past, this one forceful enough that he stumbled a few steps.

Grinning at the interaction, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, tone full of sarcasm, “Very funny Buckaroo. Is there really much for me to say whilst you two are at your finest? I’m a little distracted to talk”, you trialled off. Your stare openly at their bare chests, sweat gleaming off the perfectly shaped muscles. It had simply been too hot this afternoon in the warehouse for both of them to wear shirts so with a subtle grin, you suggested maybe they should take them off which they were more than happy to oblige, giving you the best view possible.

A squeal erupted from you as Bucky ran up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against his body, stubble grazing your cheek as he leaned over your shoulder to peck your lips. Relaxing into the touch, you savoured his unnaturally warm temperature, not realising how just chilled to the bone you felt. You pondered on this thought for a moment. It was hot in the warehouse therefore you should have been feeling warm too but, you instead felt quite the opposite. Internally you groaned, hoping this wasn’t a sign that you were becoming ill, especially as you had a headache since the moment you’d risen that morning.

Bucky’s lips were on an exploratory journey of your cheek, only stopping until he was grazing over your ear, “More than just now sweetheart, you’ve been quiet today, is everything alright?” he asked with less of a teasing tone as before.

You withheld the sigh that wanted to escape as he moved away, continuing to help Steve unload the truck but his head turned in your direction so you knew he was still wanting you to answer. Staring around the warehouse, you pondered for a moment how bizarre it felt for it just to be the three of you in the vast building. Usually, it was full of other gang members but Steve and Bucky determined this shipment only required the two of them to unload and then Sam could begin selling to buyers tomorrow.

The automatic response to Bucky’s concerns was ‘I’m fine’, however, this wasn’t necessarily true. You’d had a lingering headache since the morning, and there was a tickle at the back of your throat that didn’t seem to ease even after coughing enough that your chest ached.

Shrugging your shoulders and wrapping your arms around your middle, you tried to keep your expression as nonchalant as possible. “Before either of you start worrying, I am fine, I just think I might be coming down with something, but it’s probably just a cold”.

It was Steve to stop next to you this time, his eyebrows furrowing in concern as he lifted a hand to press against your forehead. With a genuine smile, you pulled his hand away and instead hold it onto your cheek, nuzzling into it, feeling the roughness from his training as you insisted, “I’m fine, really I am, it’s just a little headache and cough”.

The mafia leader’s gaze softened a fraction at your touch, his thumb stroking against your cheekbone for a moment before he continued with his worried fretting. “Do you want to go home? I don’t mind taking you and Bucky finishing up here”. You shake your head instantly, stepping closer to him so that you could reach up and stroke a stray piece of blonde hair out of his eyes. It was Steve’s turn now to move your hand away so that he could kiss the tips of your fingers in a delicate way that warmed your cheeks with the loving gaze he was looking at you.

“No, it’s fine I’ll wait, it doesn’t look like you have much left to unpack and anyway, the view is keeping me thoroughly entertained”, you say, eyes dropping to his bare chest before glancing back up to his blue eyes with a suggestive eyebrow raised.

Steve doesn’t say anything, knowing you’re trying to distract him from worrying so he just simply leans down to kiss your forehead and continues with unloading the van. The two of them continued for a few more minutes as you happily watched until the overwhelming urge to massage your temple took over, the motion helping to ease the ache that was beginning to pound there only by the slightest amount.

It was Bucky who spoke next, muttering lowly under his breath as he walked past in a teasing but matter-of-fact tone, “I told you dancing in the rain wasn’t a good idea and you’d catch a cold”.

A smile graced your face as you thought back to yesterday's activities. The three of you had been on the way home from an intimate dinner where you were all dressed in the stunning dress and three-piece suits for Steve and Bucky. On the way home, your favourite song came on the radio and after the few too many drinks you'd had in the restaurant, all you wanted to do was dance and insisted that Bucky pulled over but he countered that you’d catch a cold going out into the rain with only your barely covering dress.

However, Bucky couldn’t say no to you for long as quickly parked up much to your delight and with the music blaring from the stereo, the three of you danced in the rain until you were soaked to the bone, shivering until you couldn’t talk. The romance, joy and grin that beam up to them both were all worth it.

However, with the way you were feeling now, maybe Bucky did have a point but you wouldn’t take back the moment yesterday, even thinking about it had your chest filling with love and warmth.

Looking up at Bucky, you cooed, “Yes, but it was so romantic!” Your boyfriend's eyes softened for a split second before quickly moving out of the way as you had an influx of sneezes, your eyes watering and your throat burning with intensity.

Eventually, the crates were unloaded and ready for Sam and the three of you were on the way home. However, it seemed the sneezes were the start of your downfall, feeling worse off from when you’d arrived at the warehouse. Sitting in the backseat with Steve, your head rested heavily against his shoulders, eyes closed with the hopes that it would help your headache. You would have held onto Steve’s hand but you spent more time wiping your nose that hadn’t stopped running since you began sneezing, luckily Steve had a spare tissue that now seemed to be attached to your face.

As soon as you were home, Steve insisted on you taking some cold and flu medicine; however, the only kind in your home was a vile liquid form which tasted like bottled sour death. So, of course, you refused with a dismissive wave of your hand as you stepped into the kitchen for a glass of water, “there’s no way I’m taking that, I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning, just need some rest”.

“Please take just a spoonful, and I’ll fish out some ice cream for you. It’s probably better to start taking some medicine now than waiting and feeling worse”, Steve insisted, following you around with the spoon and medicine like he was Mary Poppins.

“You’re making me sound like a child Steve, and anyway, last time I had some you could hardly wake me for dinner”, referring to the drowsy medication, last time you’d taken it, they could hardly even wake you for dinner.

“Yes, but it’s the only medication we have right now and I’d feel better if you didn’t feel ill, so please take some”. He’d cornered you to the corner of the kitchen, his large frame blocking your escape as you back brushed against the countertops. 

Sighing heavily, you looked up into his worried eyes, seeing Bucky’s over his shoulder with just as much concern and instantly you crumbled on your reluctance, knowing he was right, it was better if you took some than none at all. “Fine I’ll take the medicine but I will only accept because of your offer for ice cream”.

As soon as the rancid medicine coated your tongue, you regretted ever believing you’d feel better after taking it, gagging so violently that tears streamed down your cheeks and even half a tub of ice cream couldn’t shift the lingering taste.

By the time your stomach was full of the dessert, your eyelids were already feeling heavy. Still, you tried to shake it off, wanting to spend the evening with your boyfriends considering it was a rare occurrence to have nothing planned the following day. “What do you want to do tonight,” you asked them both, trying to refrain from yawning as they sat next to you at the table. The two of them shared a look that had you groaning in dismay, “really? You have to work tonight?” Steve shifted closer, kissing your cheek gently and resting his hand on your thigh, his thumb drawing circles through your jeans as Bucky moved to place the ice cream back into the freezer.

“It’s only admin but we’re backlogged by a few weeks so both need to do it but we’ll do it in the living room, we can watch a movie or something”, he suggested as he inched even closer, wanting to feel his warmth and comfort.

“A movie sounds nice”, you answered with a tiny smile, leaning in to peck his cheek before standing, explaining that you were going to change into something more comfortable and you’d meet them in the living room. Despite the medicine, you continued to feel worse and in the process of changing your clothes into your usual pyjamas of shorts and a shirt of either Steve’s or Bucky’s, you had a massive coughing fit that took your breath away. As you tried to compose yourself, eyes closed as the pounding in your head intensified, a warm presence enveloped you from behind.

“I could hear you coughing from downstairs, Doll, are you ok?” Bucky asked, hands stroking up your arms to cup your jaw as you pouted at him.

“Not really, that medicine wasn’t worth it”, you admitted, feeling somewhat sorry for yourself as you leaned into him.

He smiled sadly, kissing your temple affectionately before holding both of your hands, “Come on let’s go downstairs and I’ll see what I can find you to help”.

Steve and Bucky always were so attentive when you weren’t feeling great, going above and beyond for your comfort. Once downstairs, Bucky covered your lap in a fluffy blanket after pulling your legs over his thighs, resting his laptop on your legs to continue working as Steve sat to your other side, his arm over your shoulder so that you could spoon around the muscular limb. On the coffee table between the couch and TV, there was an array of snacks, water, honey and lemon tea, packs of tissues and the dreaded medicine.

However, you didn’t touch any of the items as you promptly succumbed to the drowsy effect and before the movie was even selected, fell into a deep sleep on Steve’s arm.

As the movie credits began playing on the screen, you woke to an ice-cold metal hand on your forehead you moaned in relief, leaning into the welcoming touch.

“You’re starting to get a fever, Sweetheart”, Bucky remarked as his hand remained in place against you. One thing that Bucky’s metal arm could provide was coldness, the special substance that it was made from meant that it would always remain cold, even if he held it over a fire so for moments like now, it was perfect.

“I feel like shit”, you admitted, your voice thick with sleep and croaky from how dry your throat was. Not only this but your head was pounding enough that you didn’t want to risk opening your eyes to the fear that you might vomit and your entire body ached. This all didn’t get any better as you began to violently cough until there was a subtle wheeze with your breaths.

Bucky leaned forward, reaching with his warm hand for the glass of water, holding it up to your lips and helping you to drink half of it.

“Maybe you should have some more medicine baby”, Steve suggested but you were already asleep again.

Another hour passed before they attempted to wake you again so that you could eat something, having not had anything all afternoon but your only response was a shake of the head, your stomach churning at the thought of food.

The next time you woke, it was because you were being carried by Steve, his arms safely braced beneath your knees and back as your head cradled into his neck. “Can I sleep in the spare room tonight?” you asked croakily.

You could feel Steve stop walking, his head turning to try and look down at you, his grip tightening slightly, as he asked, “Why do you want to be in the spare room?”

“Because I don’t want either of you to catch my cold”.

Steve’s body instantly relaxed as he continued walking straight for the shared bedroom, carefully placing you into the centre of the bed before sitting next to you and responding, “Firstly, when have you ever seen either of us ill before?”

He had a good point, you thought, the entire time you’ve been with them both, not once had they been ill but they mostly put it down to the side effects of the experiments they’d been through during their time in the army.

The bed shifted on the other side of you as Bucky continued Steve’s points, “Secondly, do you really think we’re letting you out of our sight for even a second? I don’t think so, Doll”. You mustered up a small smile in response but with your eyes still closed and being comfortable in bed, you quickly fell back to sleep.

During the night was difficult, especially when you needed the toilet but both of your boyfriends were there to either carry or hold onto your hands to help you walk to the toilet when you weren’t feeling at your strongest.

When you woke up the next day, it was only because Bucky had shaken you to give you some new medicine that he’d just been and bought from the store. Reluctantly, one of your eyes peeked open to see Bucky dressed and looking at you with such worry you wanted to crawl over to him and comfort the brunette but your body didn’t seem to want to listen to you.

“Am I dead?” You tried to ask jokingly but the crackly voice from your sore throat had you wincing with how hoarse it sounded.

Bucky tried to genuinely smile as he stroke the back of his hand against your cheek, “Well, you were snoring like the dead so, potentially”. You would have swatted his arm away if you had the energy but instead, you only groaned, trying to hide your face in the pillow. “Talk to me, how are you feeling? Where does it hurt the most? I’ve got some water here for your medicine and some tea that’ll help your throat”.

Opening your eyes fully, you accepted the drinks and meds from him and noticed that he had covered the bedside cabinet with the array of treats, tissues and drinks from yesterday.

“What time is it,” you asked after being repositioned so your back was against the headboard, the position change meant that your blocked nose began to run so you shoved a tissue up each nostril and left it there, finding it easier than having to keep wiping, not caring what you looked like.

Bucky glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly 2 pm, I’ve been to the shop this morning and was waiting for you to wake up to take your meds but, I had a sneaky suspicion that you could probably sleep for the rest of the day if we left you to it”.

You were in disbelief that you’d been able to sleep for that long. Looking around, you couldn’t see your other boyfriend, “Where’s Steve?”.

“He’s just on the phone, he’ll be back in a minute don’t worry. Do you want to stay in here today or downstairs?”

“In here please”, as you respond, you slide your body back down further into the bed.

Bucky leaned down to kiss the top of your head before shuffling off to change out of his jeans and into some joggers but, before he’d even returned you were already asleep once more.

The next time you woke, it wasn’t because of meds or needing to use the toilet, this time it was because you thought you were going to explode you were so hot. Your skin was hot and clammy to the touch, sweating profusely as you tossed and turned to try and find some relief, and in the end, sobbing because you felt so poorly.

Bucky had been trying his best to keep your fever cool with his metal arm whilst Steve was helping you drink water but in the end, they both decided it was probably easier to just sit in the bath with lukewarm water. They both joined you, mostly holding up your body as you had no energy to even try and after a few minutes, you finally sighed in satisfaction, even though the fever remained at least the water helped to keep you calm.

After returning to bed in shorts and a vest, you had hoped to fall back to sleep but instead, you spent what felt like hours coughing and wiping your nose. Steve and Bucky were once again there every step of the way, stroking your back, reminding you that they were there and that everything would be ok which was what you needed to hear when it felt like you were struggling to breath with how tight your chest felt.

As the hours ticked by, they became anxious that you’d not eaten and even though you explicitly explained that you weren’t hungry, Steve still cooked his homemade chicken noodle soup, encouraging you with every mouthful. Even though you couldn’t taste it, it did make you feel a little better to have a full stomach, enough so that you were able to fall asleep.

As you slept, Bucky would continuously touch your feverish skin with his cool hand as Steve placed wet cloths against your forehead with the hopes of cooling you down. Only when you began to shiver did they both stop, satisfied that your fever had passed; however now, you couldn’t warm yourself up.

By the second day, Steve was near to having a nervous breakdown and had his phone in hand to call a doctor. However, in your half-conscious state, you tried to soothe his worries. He knew it would pass but you hated to see him so on edge. Bucky was just as bad, every time you’d open your eyes, he was there, unblinking stare watching your chest rise and fall.

The only way you could try and help them was by asking Steve to hold you close, which he was more than happy to do. Sliding further up the bed until his back was resting against, as he sat against the headboard, he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his, chests brushed together and your head resting on his shoulder.

You hummed in relief, “You’re like my own personal heated blanket”, you praised him, snuggling closer to his body. Bucky sat beside you both, sliding the fluffy blanket around your shoulders and kissing the back of your head, being careful not to touch you with his metal arm in case it was too cold.

You were highly aware of this from the awkward angle that he was sitting and you instantly felt bad for him, reaching a hand out of the blanket to grab onto his metal one.

“I don’t deserve you two”, you say with exhaustion and sadness lacing your voice.

“Yes you do, now go to sleep”, Steve brushed off your comment with a kiss to your temple, his fingers massaging over your head, helping you to fall asleep.

You seemed to spend more time asleep than awake but your body needed to recover, hardly having the energy to even wake up properly when it was time to take your medicine but luckily Bucky was there to help hold you up and tilt the water and meds into your mouth.

You were also half-aware that they were both moving you between the living room and the bedroom, making sure you weren’t stuck in the same position for too long. Your face would be regularly cleaned of the different bodily fluids that seemed to be leaking out of you, they would help you to the toilet day or night when needs be, and there would always be soup ready for the small time periods where you were awake.

Even though you were safe and slowly recovering, Steve and Bucky were struggling to see you this poorly. It got to the point that Natasha had to come around with groceries and help tidy the house as both men refused to leave your side.

After three long days of being most unconscious, you woke with only a mild headache, throat still sore but nowhere near as bad as it had been and at least you could breathe through your nose. Opening your eyes slowly, you found yourself laying with your head in Bucky’s lap, his fingers resting over your head like he’d been brushing his fingers over your scalp, whilst your feet rested in Steve’s lap.

You could hear the TV on but from the sounds of the light snoring coming from both men, it seemed that exhaustion finally hit them as they’d fallen asleep, heads dropping on their shoulders in uncomfortable positions. Your heart twisted in guilt at seeing them like this, purple shaded under their eyes and stubble grown out further than usual.

As you turned your head to look at Steve, the movement seemed to startle Bucky awake first, his body jerking with a snort that simultaneously woke Steve up as well, both of their tired eyes snapping to look at you in worry.

“Sorry for waking you”, you say sheepishly, coughing a few times to clear your throat and then giving them a genuine smile that calmed any tension in their bodies.

“Are you ok?” Bucky asked, eyes flicking between your own as he began to run his fingers through over your scalp, confirming your suspicions.

“Yeah, I’m actually feeling a lot better than I was, I can finally breathe through my nose!” You raised your arm in triumph and then quickly dropped it as your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “Which means I can finally smell myself, I think I’m going to have a shower and change my clothes”.

“Bucky smells worse after the gym, don’t worry baby”, Steve joked, earning a glare from his friend. “Are you sure you’re feeling up for it though? The shower I mean, I don’t want you to push yourself too soon”.

You stretched your full body out, feeling joints click and muscles shake with the movement. “Yeah, I think so. I feel gross so want to get washed up anyway”.

“Let’s go then!” Bucky announced, shuffling to help you stand up, but your knees wobbled slightly and causing you to walk like a baby deer but you made it all the way upstairs and to the bathroom. It wasn’t only you that had a shower, of course, Steve and Bucky joined, both deeming that they needed to wash just as much as you but secretly you knew it was because they wanted to make sure you were ok.

“You’re both such mother hens”, you joke as Bucky washes your hair and Steve sponges over your body. You offered to do the same for them but they declined, making sure you were dry and safe before continuing with their own showers. In the safety of your bedroom, you looked around, trying to notice any signs that you’d been ill but other than the snacks and water on the side, there were no tissues or anything. Your heart pumped harder with love at having both of them so devoted to your care that they’d even clean up your snotty tissues.

“Better?” Bucky asks, stepping out of the bathroom with only a low towel around his waist, and walking towards where you sat at the edge of the bed.

Stifling a yawn behind your hand, you nodded, “Yes. Although even though I’ve only walked a few steps I'm already tired”. He smiles down softly at you, tilting your chin back and kissing your lips, a touch that you had missed dearly and it seems him too with the way his whole body seemed to sigh into it.

Pulling back, he nodded towards the top of the bed, “Get into bed. we’ll be with you in a moment”.

Without any arguments, you happily crawled up the bed, getting under the blanket and waited patiently, making sure not to fall asleep until Bucky and Steve were on either side of you, both kissing your face and shoulder tenderly. “I’m glad you’re feeling better baby”, Steve whispered against your skin.

[nickgoesinsane]

baby fever

jake sully x metkayina reader x neytiri te tskaha mo’at’ite

cw: nsfw (minors dni), sub!jake, sub!neytiri, dom!reader, gn!reader, intersex na’vi, threesome, polyamory, mild angst, scent kink, fingering, breeding kink, impregnation, tsaheylu, biting, marking, creampie, etc.

word count: 3020

One of the women of the village, Maika, gave birth to her first child. Coincidentally, it marked the end of the rainy season. The damaged marui were repaired, as well as the torn walkways, while the scent of distant rainwater lingers in the air. Maika sits by the cookfires, surrounded by clan members who wanted to meet her son. Ralu lingers behind her, blinking far too often to be normal as he looks down at them. Your usually stoic friend is clearly holding back tears, but you choose not to comment as you approach. 

You smile broadly and touch your fingers to your forehead in greeting when your turn arrives. “I have brought something for you.” You say, presenting the warm blanket you began weaving the moment Ralu had told you Maika was pregnant. They both looked immensely touched by the gesture. “For the cold nights.” You unnecessarily add, amused by Maika’s glossy eyes and trembling mouth as she takes note of the intricate patterns. 

“Thank you, tsmuktu.” Ralu says, his voice thick, and you snort as you hand him the blanket. He gives your shoulder a halfhearted shove, and Maika giggles. Her son’s ears twitch at the sound, and he blinks up at her with big blue eyes. 

“Would you like to hold him?” She asks, and you pause. The babe is small— about the size of a tsurak egg, and probably just as fragile. You don’t remember the last time you held a child of his size, more used to the anklebiters that tackle each other off the walkways to race to the ilu pens. Your ears fold against your skull, and you open your mouth to politely decline, but Ralu arranges your arms into a comfortable position and promptly sets his tiny son in your hold. 

“Oh.” You breathe, staring back at the eyes flicking over your face. “What is, um,” The child wraps his small hands around your toa guard, curiously thumbing the leather, “what’s his name?” 

“Entu.” Ralu replies, smiling broadly at your awkward stance. Entu smacks your chin, and Maika giggles behind her hand, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. 

He’s adorable, you have to admit. Tiny, fragile, and adorable. It won’t be long before he’s also carelessly sprinting down the walkways with the other children. You watch little Entu, enraptured, as the boy swats at the beads woven into your braids. The Metkayina often wear shells and pieces of sea glass in their hair, along with intricate leather bands, but amber and wooden beads belong to the Omatikaya. They were a precious gift from Jake and Neytiri when you began courting. It seems Entu likes them, too. 

You draw your eyes away from the baby, feeling someone’s gaze weighing on you. You spot — speak of the vrrtep — Jake watching you from the walkway with a strangely intense look. His amber eyes dance between your protective hold on the child and your face. Neytiri joins his side, wrapping her arm around his, and her expression gains that same bizarre heat. She leans up on the tips of her toes to say something into Jake’s ear, and his tail lashes almost violently. You tilt your head at them, confused. You haven’t done anything to provoke such a reaction, you don’t think…

Maika giggles again while Ralu’s mouth spreads into a smirk. Your fellow warrior takes his son, who’d been in the middle of nibbling on the corner of your toa guard, from your arms and nods in the direction of the forest Na’vi. “Good luck, tsmuktu.” He says in a teasing tone. 

“With what?” You ask, your confusion growing. 

“Tuktirey is eight cycles already, yes?” Maika asks thoughtfully, ignoring your own questions, and shares another look with her mate. Ralu nods, stroking Entu’s striped back as the babe rests his cheek against his father’s collarbone.

You broad tail sways in exasperation, “What do you mean? What does Tuk have to do with this?” 

Ralu shrugs his shoulders, careful not to disturb his son, “I’m sure your mates can explain.” 

You sigh at them, barely able to hold back a hiss, and bid them goodbye. You hear them laugh while you leave and, for a moment, you wish you had five fingers to mimic the rude gesture Lo’ak often shoots the other Metkayina boys. Jake and Neytiri’s eyes are dark with an emotion you can’t place, and they both watch you intently as you cautiously approach. You easily tower over them, causing you to lean down to greet them. Jake sighs into your mouth when you kiss him, trailing calloused fingers over the muscles of your abdomen. Neytiri leans against your side, brushing her lips against your cheek while her own slim fingers circle your bicep. You shiver, and you feel your ears grow hot. 

“Hello.” You murmur quietly as you pull away. “Did you go see Maika’s child?” You ask in a failed attempt to seem casual. 

Neytiri smiles, a beautiful thing that lights up her expression. “Yes. He will be strong.” She says in reply, once again glancing at Jake while subtly feeling your arm. There it is again, that look. Good luck, Ralu wished you, but with what?

“Come.” Jake speaks up, grasping your hand in his. His slim tail curls in an interested arc behind him. 

You’re a willing follower as they lead you to their marui, now empty given that their sons and daughters were busy in the reefs and will not come home until eclipse. The scent of their growing arousal perfumes the air, and you find yourself relaxing. For a moment, you’d thought you’d done something to anger them. You find yourself pushed onto their pallet, barely managing to move your tail out of the way in time to avoid sitting on it. 

Jake strokes the stripes along your jaw almost absentmindedly, “Entu’s a cute baby, isn’t he?” He asks in a strangely pointed manner. 

You look between them, feeling uncharacteristically nervous under their hungry stares, “Yes… He’s cute. And small.” 

Your words strike something in Neytiri, with the way her posture straightens and her eyes trail to your hands again. “Mm, he looked very small in your hands.” Your ears twitch at the breathiness of her voice. 

“The kids are so big now, it feels like forever ago when they were that size.” He adds, sighing wistfully, and traces your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. The weight of his finger draws it downward, exposing your sharp teeth to his searching eyes. “It won’t be long until they move out. Even Tuktuk is getting older.” 

“Tuktirey is eight cycles already.” 

Oh. 

Jake grins at the look of realization that dawns on your face. It’s a filthy, debauched thing that sets your body on fire and makes your tewng grow tight around your groin, but you doubt. “Do you,” Your lips brush against his thumb as you speak, “want that of me? Another? They won’t be like…” You trail off with a grimace. You are Metkayina, not Omatikaya. Any children you sire will look like your People. If you were to have one with Jake and Neytiri, they would be different, and it will be your fault. You can’t give them children with the slim limbs, darker skin and amber eyes that their sons and daughters have.

Neytiri kneels beside you, her expression softening, and cups your face. “They will look like you.” She says, her lips spreading into a warm smile. “And we will love them the same way we’ve loved our other children.” 

“Mhm.” Jake hums in agreement, smoothing a hand over your braided hair. “What do you say, yawntu? You wanna be a Sempu?” The question should be as arousing as it is, but your cock throbs at the notion. 

Neytiri kisses you first, slow and deep. Her hands cradle your face like you’re something precious, and her lips part for your tongue. You tilt your head to trace the sharp points of her teeth, humming at the sweet taste of fruit lingering on her own tongue. You stroke your hand down the curves of her slim body, undoing the strings of her tewng that wrap around the base of her tail. She sighs into your mouth, her chest pressing against yours as she arches her back when your fingers trail lower. 

You gently press against her folds, feeling her arousal wet your fingers. You only manage to slip the tip of a finger inside her when Neytiri pulls away. Her pupils are wide, nearly swallowing the pretty amber of her eyes, and she makes space between you. You stare at her in confusion, but she shakes her head with a soft chuckle. 

“We were thinking,” Jake begins, his voice thick with arousal at what he’d been watching, and leans down to mouth along the column of your throat, “this could be my turn. It would be my first, too.” 

“Oh,” Is all you manage, feeling like the air has been taken out of your lungs. The thought of Jake, swollen with your seed, has your tail thumping against the pallet. 

He tilts his head, his eyebrows lifting, “Is that a yes?” 

“Obviously.” You reply, finally organizing your thoughts, and grab onto his slim waist to pull him closer. He straightens and stands very still while you untie the stings of his tewng.

Glossy strings of slick cling to the cloth as you slip it down his thick thighs. You swallow the excess saliva that pools in your mouth, resisting the urge to simply bury your face between his legs and lap at his slit like a starved nantang. You will do that another time. Jake shivers as the air inside the marui brushes against his heated flesh, precum shining on the flushed tip of his cock. Your appreciative hum trails off into a purr as you press your nose against the soft pudge of his stomach, inhaling slowly to drown your senses in his scent. It envelops you like a warm, intoxicating blanket.

Jake exhales shakily, and Neytiri settles behind you. Her hands ghost over your back, along the waving stripes of sea green that hug your body, and undoes the laces of your toa guard to bare more of your skin. You take another deep breath against Jake’s soft skin, then move your head to catch the opalescent droplets dribbling down his cock. He gasps raggedly at the sudden touch of your tongue, and his hands go to your hair. You slip your hand between his legs, brushing your fingers against the wet, swollen lips of his pussy. 

His hips tilt into your touch, easily accepting your fingers as they breach him. He’s warm and soft inside, and your tewng sticks to the arousal dripping from you. Neytiri’s mouth presses against your shoulder, leaving kisses against your skin as she watches you thrust your fingers inside Jake. You slip a second finger into his cunt, curling and spreading them apart to stretch him for your cock. Neytiri tugs your tewng down, curling her fingers around your hard length to free it from its confines. She swipes her thumb over the tip, collecting the slick and precum for an easier glide as she strokes you. 

You moan quietly, your ears folding against your head at the sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Jake’s breathing quickens, his tail lashing behind him, and he grinds against your fingers. He brings his tswin around, presenting the tendrils of his kuru to Neytiri. They writhe in the air, wanting, and you reach back to grasp her own tswin. She watches you, her lips parted as she pants, and nods. You move your eyes to the kuru, watching them intertwine and form tsaheylu, and you feel the way Neytiri shudders against your back with a soft, whining exhale. 

Your eyes dance back and forth between them as you keep moving your fingers, watching their matching expressions when you add a third finger to press against the spot inside Jake that makes their tails shake. You aim for it, again and again until he flutters around your fingers and they climax. It’s always lovely, seeing them become one through the bond, managing to make them come for you at the same time. Your fingers are coated in slick when you take them out, and Jake’s pussy twitches and clenches around nothing. 

Silently, you hold your soaked fingers to Neytiri’s mouth. Her eyelids flutter as your fingers slip past her lips, spreading Jake’s slick over her tongue. They groan simultaneously as the sweet taste spreads over her tastebuds. Neytiri suckles at your fingers, laving her tongue over and between them to get them clean. You pull away and kiss her chastely when she’s done before you turn back to Jake, reaching out to place your hands on his hips. “Are you ready?” You ask quietly, your eyes flitting over his face as you look up at him for any sign of hesitation, but he just smiles back at you. 

“I am, but…” He murmurs, placing his hands on your shoulders to steady himself as he moves to straddle your lap. You grunt as the swollen head of your cock bumps against his dripping folds as they hover over you. 

“Are you?” Neytiri whispers, finishing Jake’s train of thought. 

You smile as well, surrounded by the two people you love the most, about to make something beautiful. “Yes.” 

She wraps her fingers around your cock, guiding it inside Jake as he lowers himself. You groan as your cock inches inside him, bit by bit, until it’s completely buried inside him. It’s a snug fit despite his earlier orgasm, and more slick dribbles from where you meet to soak the inside of your thighs. It’s not your first time together like this— far from it, actually, but somehow it feels like a first. 

So you act like it is, rocking gently inside him and kissing the glowing freckles that dot his face. Jake pushes down to meet your thrusts, his ears flat against his skull. You hear the quiet, wet sounds of Neytiri thrusting her fingers inside herself as she kisses and nibbles at your throat. The action muffles her sounds, while Jake cries out freely as he bounces on your cock. His own erection grinds against your stomach, smearing precum onto your skin. 

“You’re wonderful,” You pant, quickening your pace, “Both of you. Great Mother, I love you both.” 

Jake tips his chin with a whine, and you capture his mouth with yours. His blunt nails dig into your chest as he scrambles for support and greedily suckles on your tongue. Your grunt is muffled when Neytiri bites down on your shoulder, her fangs breaking through the skin. It feels so good. “Give it to me,” Jake nearly sobs, breaking away with a soft squelch as thin strings of saliva hang between you, “Please, please, please—”

“Give us a baby, yawntu.” Neytiri says hotly against your skin, lapping at the blood rolling down your skin and rutting harder onto her fingers. 

“I will,” You snarl through grit teeth, slamming up into Jake’s pussy, “I’m going to fuck you full of my seed and we’ll watch it take. Watch you swell with a baby, our baby.” 

Jake cries out, his eyes rolling, and cum spills onto your stomach while his cunt tightens around your cock like a vice. As slick gushes onto your pelvis, Neytiri takes it upon herself to grasp your tswin with shaking hands and connects your kuru to theirs. It’s a decision that’s taken in the heat of the moment, but one that’s been considered for far longer. You gasp, and it gets caught in your throat like a sob. For a moment, you’re lost in the feelings that crash into you like a wave against the shore. It’s Jake, and it’s Neytiri, and it’s you. You shudder as you come, your eyes screwing shut from the sting of overwhelmed tears, and your ears fold. You hear someone groan, maybe it’s Jake, maybe it’s Neytiri, or maybe it’s you— it’s all of you. 

You tighten your fingers around Jake’s hips until you feel the phantom sting on your own, the bruises that will blossom on his skin come morning. You feel the seemingly endless ropes of cum you spill inside his cunt, the fluttering of his walls around your cock, and the press of Neytiri’s fingers against the softest parts of her. You tuck your face into the crook of Jake’s neck, and his hand curls around your nape to keep you there as he rolls his hips with small whines and whimpers, milking every drop you’re more than willing to offer. 

Neytiri coos at you, her tail curling around your waist as she nuzzles against your back. You stay like that, all huddled together and breathing like a single being. It’s tsaheylu, you realize— or maybe they explain without speaking. It’s lovely, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Well, almost everything.

Jake gasps softly when you maneuver him onto his back on the pallet, careful not to break the bond. His cock lays against his soiled belly, half hard, and you tug Neytiri closer. “Again?” You ask out loud, even though you don’t have to. 

“Yeah, that’s—” Jake’s eyes grow half lidded at the thoughts that run through your mind, “that’s perfect.” 

Neytiri moans breathily when you push her down onto his cock, and she grips on to Jake’s arms while her tail tightens its hold on your waist. You pull back, slipping out of Jake until the very tip remains inside him, then thrust back inside him. Slick and cum make a bubbly, frothy mess around the thick base of your cock, smearing onto the mess that’s already on your skin as you drill into Jake’s gushing pussy. You lift and drag Neytiri’s hips down in time with your own thrusts, your ears perking at their pleasured cries. It’s sloppy, it’s wet, it’s loud— it’s wonderful, and it’s perfect. 

By the next rainy season, there will be another child born to the Suli family.

[asheepinthenight]

Remedy (Talon's End Extra April 2024)

Some short fluff for this month's extra! MC comes down with a bad cold, and Hawk doesn't know what to do about it. Contains mild spoilers for post-game Hawk/MC relationship. Mostly written for the romantic version of their relationship but could also be queerplatonic (maybe even platonic, depending on how you feel about cuddling and forehead kisses) if you ignore a couple lines near the end.

You sneeze for what feels like the hundredth time in the last hour, and Hawk's head immediately snaps up to look at you. They put their book aside and lean over to put their hand to your forehead. The difference in temperature between their cold skin and your feverish body makes you shiver. They tuck the covers around you more tightly and look down at you as if, should they blink, you will come untethered from this mortal coil.

"It's just a bad cold, Hawk."

They narrow their eyes at you. "Many animals feign wellbeing in their final days. Self-preservation instinct to avoid predators' attention."

"I don't think I'm feigning 'wellbeing' very well."

Hawk gives you a rueful smile. "No. You're not."

You reach over to pat Hawk's hand where they're unthinkingly pulling a loose thread from the edge of the blanket. "I'll be well in a few days."

"That's what you said yesterday."

"And it's still true—it's only been one day so far."

Hawk scowls at the accuracy of your statement, and your laugh initiates another round of coughing. Once it passes, you look up to see the same look of deep alarm that you've seen in Hawk's golden eyes too many times since yous tarted falling ill. "You're sure this is normal?" they ask

"Very sure."

Hawk manages to sustain a few seconds of anxious silence before resuming their questioning. "And you don't need a healer...?"

You shake your head. "Just rest. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"I want to. If you want me to."

You nod, and they reach out to take your hand in theirs. Though Hawk's body isn't warm, it's not unlike a blanket: once it takes on enough of your own body heat, it holds it there, insulating you from the cold outside the bed. As you close your eyes and try to relax, you can feel the anxious static of Hawk's energy fade toward their usual calm.

You drift in and out of sleep, the fever and cough keeping you from resting deeply. After some time, you wake up sweating and kick all the blankets off, only to later wake again shivering. You sit up to hazily claw the blankets back over yourself, but you feel yourself being pulled into Hawk's arms as they lie down next to you, sweeping the blankets up over you both.

"Ridiculous," Hawk says as you bury your face against their chest. "Just rest."

"I'm trying," you say through chattering teeth.

Hawk sighs. "I don't know anything about... any of this. I don't think I'm helping."

"You are." You hold onto Hawk tightly as they rub your back, the warmth slowly returning to you.

"There are times I've wished I were born mortal, but I don't want this part."

You laugh—carefully, so you don't start coughing again—and pull away just enough to look at Hawk. "You'll have to leave the bed when I get too warm again."

"The human body makes no sense."

"Did you just realize that?"

Hawk scoffs and kisses your forehead. "Hardly, but I'll endure the whims of your fever and leave when you ask."

"You'll stay nearby, though?"

"Of course. As long as you want me to."

"Forever, then?"

Hawk chuckles. "You don't need to waste energy courting me; I'm already yours. So yes." They press their lips to the top of your head. "Forever."

[onelocket]

Hi!

I really like your blog and I saw that you are taking requests(if you don't, please ignore this), so I wanted to ask if I could request reader taking care of sick Fyodor? Maybe headcannons or a scenario, whatever your comfortable with.

I hope you'll have a great day/night.

hello anon! this is so sweet, though it’s very ironic because i was requested to write fyodor taking care of a sick reader. tables have turned i suppose ^^);; i’m so sorry to have only posted this today! have a great day/night and thank you for requesting ♡

Sick Fyodor with his caring lover

involves -- domestic relationship, biting nails/skin around nails

headcanons

Fyodor will be pretty open about it.

Whenever he’s sick, his routine will change either by a little or just straight up completely if he’s that sick. He won’t deny how he feels when he does fall ill though. He’s aware you’ll know anyway, so why even bother?

"Fyodor," You whisper as your knuckles knock on the open door, catching his acknowledgment. "Is everything alright..? You’ve been walking back and forth to bring water to your office a lot today."

"Mm, milaya." He replied after swallowing what you assumed was water, closing the bottle he was holding. "I’m alright, just a little sick."

"You’re sick..?!"

He’s thankful for your concern… but..

It’s a little… Could intrusive be the right word? Well, no matter, he loves you anyway and he knows you only try to mean well. He’s not a guy so easy to irritate, especially when it comes to you. Although, he does find your force to be a bit meddling.

"C’mon, Fyodor." You quietly beg him, your hand tugging on his arm as you get him to stand up on his desk. "You can work when you feel better again…"

"It is not as bad as you think it is. I’m merely experiencing a small fever."

Replies like that would be how he usually gets a conversation of counters going back and forth if he should lay down in bed or not. But always—they end up in him doing what you ask for. You knew a large part of it was because he let you win over just so it wouldn’t escalate further, which was also a little embarrassing… but you only wanted him to rest! You love him, and he knows that after all.

Fyodor will constantly need to warm up a lot,

Even if the air conditioning isn’t even on, and the windows are closed. Especially if he’s just finished washing himself off, you’d have to have dozens of blankets on the bed in case he’ll need it. Of course, it’s not to say he’d drown himself in the sea of blankets, but he will be cooped up in a lot of them… which makes you really doubt the ‘merely experiencing a small fever’ statement he seemed so calm to have mentioned.

"Fedya," You call, holding a tray with tea and soup in case he feel like taking broth instead. "Are you… oh?"

"…I’m cold." He replied simply, blinking a few times as he sees your confusion as to why he’s so cuddled up with the warm blankets.

Deep down you knew he was probably doing that just to see a reaction out of your constantly concerned face. It always works for some reason—his face acting so confused by your own which was dumbfounded by the sight. But if it also actually gets him to feel better… Well, why not?

Barely shows any reactions out of discomfort,

Even if his temperature would be a lot higher than what can be called a ‘small fever’. Fyodor is a religious man; he knows God will make sure this setback goes away as quick as it can, so a fever doesn’t turn him pessimistic. You still catch small facial movements that express his dislike to his burning temperature, and his coughs with need to blow his nose through a tissue are already enough signs to tell that too. So that’s why you’ll know when and if he’s okay now or not.

It’s a little hard to take care of him, though.

His lack of showing any sign of what he might want does not help with your want to take care of him. It’s not to say he completely ignores when you ask him what’s wrong or what he’d want, but he does discard it a lot… which makes you doubt his replies often.

"Fyodor, you know I’m here for you." You speak quietly as you lay your palms on your lap, "You can tell me what you want, you know?"

"I am alright, milaya. There is less need to worry."

You know he just wants you to calm down and be assured he’s okay… but it’s hard when your lover is sick, isn’t it? If his words won’t get you anywhere however, his temperature and your observation will at least. You just bring his medicine, iron supplements and water when you think he needs it, as well as anything that may come to your mind looking at his state.

He manages to take naps some more.

And it’s a bonus for the both of you. While Fyodor gets the sleep he lacks, you get to smile and watch him, all asleep and out of the thought from his plans. It makes you want to just hug him and kiss his face, but disturbing him would not be a nice welcome. Instead, you take the time to prepare tea for when he wakes up.

His constant nail biting when sick…

You don’t like it. You really don’t at all—but you’ve always tried to just understand. It’s not easy to let go of something you’ve been used to doing, and that doesn’t change even for a guy like him. But sometimes, especially when he’s sick, you just can’t let him bite off his skin and make them bleed longer.

"Fyodor.." You softly call, almost a whine.

"…I’m sorry, milaya."

While he compiles and puts his hands down, you can’t help but worry and stare at his nails and the skin around it, all chipped and bitten. You can’t hold them, but you do place a hand on his cheek to try to distract him for a bit, just to get his mind off the biting. And it’s a warm gesture, Fyodor usually leaning in the touch rather than declining it.

Simple kisses won’t waver, though it is limited.

You’d think he’d be a bit clingy when he’s in a fever… and, well? He would be if fevers weren’t contagious. He’d only smile softly at you rather than to hold you as he usually does, which makes you a little sad. To make up for it (, mainly for your own want as well), you give Fyodor small little kisses on his head in hopes to comfort him. He does like them, but he’s cautious of it.

"I love the way you care for me, milaya. Your kisses are my favorite, and I hope you know that. However… I can’t let you do that often. Not while I’m sick. We can’t have you infected, am I right?"

You know he’s right, so you only do it sometimes. Besides, there’s more to come when he feels better anyway. You’ll be patient for him, yeah?

Speaking of, that is his ‘reward’ for you.

Because he’s less, if not, completely opposed to the idea of holding you while he’s sick… it’s hard for you to just keep your hands off him, even just for a soft pat. But for him, you try, and he sees your attempts loud and clear. Fyodor won’t show it, but he is very entertained by it, and will even tease you about it; pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead while you lean down to put his herbal tea on the bedside table…

"You’re so caring, milaya. I’m delighted to be in your care… yet I do miss holding and kissing you. Though, perhaps I’ll hold back till I’m all better."

Those words roll off his tongue just for you to start mentally picturing the scenario—just to have Fyodor close to you and be pressing kisses on your face, your hands holding his to stop him from biting them, your heart glad he’s all better from a fever…

"…You’re right. I’m here for you to get well, Fyodor."

The extra dedication to take care of him would lock the second his words catch you through it. It also noticeably reduces the kisses you give, which makes Fyodor laugh, knowing you do want to, but hold in so he gets better quickly. And, well, who’s he to deny when him all better will pay for all the hours without a kiss?

⚘